After the Fall
by Missgoldy
Summary: After many years of taking a certain colleague for granted, Linka is left to cope with the concequences of her actions. The fallout is painful, but life lessons must be learnt in order to move forward in life and... love. Chapter Two now up... finally!
1. Chapter 1

Hello! I've been reading such fabulous CP fics lately that I decided to write another of my own. This will be a two-part effort and will focus on Linka… or more specifically, how her choices over the latter years of being a Planeteer have impacted upon her life and relationships thus far.

C'mon, you all know what (and who) I'm referring to!

**Rated T** for some language and adult themes in subsequent chapter.

**I don't own Captain Planet, nor am I making any money from this modest hobby.**

* * *

**After the Fall**

Chapter One

The woman sat in the far corner booth, quiet and watchful as she sipped the green tea placed on the table several minutes earlier. Her vivid green eyes scanned the small café, which was now almost devoid of customers, save for herself and a pair of lovebirds cuddling in the booth opposite her.

A waitress bustled past the customer and slipped out onto the footpath outside, a spray-bottle and cloth in hand. The door jingled as the employee passed through and Linka watched the waitress go to work, her forlorn gaze settling upon the rhythmic motion of the cloth on the front window. The fabric made an annoying _squelching _sound as it passed over the glass, but Linka stared on nonetheless, distracted and seemingly troubled by her thoughts… which were even more muddled than usual.

_I don't want to do this anymore._

Her cell phone rang and she jumped, nearly knocking the device off the table. Scrambling to grab it before it hit the ground, Linka recognized the caller on the screen and exhaled shakily.

_I need to tell him…_

Her heartbeat increased two-fold as she held the phone in her hand for a moment, regaining her composure.

_I am such a coward...  
_

"Hello?" she answered, her voice steady, betraying the constant sense of anxiety that had been boiling for some weeks now.

"Hey, sweetheart," came the reply, a cheerful, confident voice booming through the ear-piece with a strong American accent. "How's your day been?"

_Oh, it was just wonderful, __lyubimaya__. Hoggish Greedly pushed me into a grain silo today... practically buried me alive under tonnes of wheat until Kwame dragged me out.  
_

"It was alright. And you?" she asked, before adding as an afterthought, "How is your father going?"

A carefree laugh issued from the other end, causing Linka's frown to deepen further. "Aw, you know what it's like. Dad's always too busy with the campaign; Mum's flitting around town in fancy dresses and spending his money. Happy families, ya' know."

Linka murmured a sympathetic apology, listening only half-heartedly as her boyfriend rattled off the ins and outs of his hectic day.

_Boyfriend…_ it had once been such a threatening addition to her vocabulary. Now it simply rolled of the tip of her tongue, unburdened. She had been seeing Grant for just under six months now. The relationship wouldn't have even gone ahead if not for the pressure she had felt from her friends and family (Nona and her brother in particular) to accept the offer of dinner, after meeting him at a charity ball earlier in the year.

He had dazzled her with his intelligence, confidence and connections. She had never cared about financial wealth, but Grant had been born into a family where the term "old money" could be regarded as a gross understatement. Grant conveyed a serious demeanor, although a consequence of this trait was the fact that as the months progressed, laughs became few and far between….and sorely missed.

"_Are you insane! Linka, his father will probably be the next president! They have enough money to buy their own country…go for it!" _Gi had said in the beginning, with her customary tact and diplomacy. She, like many others, would only see his outward persona… not the morose, spoilt boy he became in private.

Ma-Ti had agreed with Gi's statement (although a discreet beam would have told him otherwise). Only Kwame had remained quiet during the dinner-table discussion… although he would angrily voice his opinions later on down the track, with Linka forced to bare the brunt of his fury. His loyalty towards Wheeler was unwavering, even after the American departed.

In fact, the one person she had been secretly counting on to voice his displeasure at the time had shrugged nonchalantly, then encouraged her to go out and live a little… not exactly the reaction she had been expecting. This had only served to confuse her further…

So many things had changed since those innocent, early days. Boyfriends, girlfriends, new eco-villains, departures and new additions to their Planeteer family had taken a toll on her. Two of the original five Planeteers had quit the group within a few months of each other. Their reasons for leaving had been varied but nonetheless valid. She missed them…

"Honey?" A slightly impatient voice interrupted her thoughts.

"I'm sorry… what did you say?"

Grant sighed theatrically. "I said, _can you make it to Martha's Vineyard for Thanksgiving dinner next week_? Dad wants some publicity shots with you in them… he thinks you'll increase his margin in the pre-election polls next year, since you're already in the public eye and all. We've got a journo' and photographer from The New York Times coming over, ya' know…" he added, failing to hide the pride evident in his voice.

_Bozhe moy…_

She grimaced, holding her head in her hands. They had been through this before. "Grant… I have told you that I am not comfortable… I have no wish to influence your father's cam…"

"Oh, come on, Linka! I'm just asking you to have friggin' dinner, damn it! So what if there's a couple of camera's floating 'round," he retorted savagely, swearing again under his breath like a petulant child. "My father's counting on you. Stop being such a baby."

She winced at the remark, although she was only recently coming to the realization that both Grant and his father tended to use intimidation or outright bullying as a way of getting what they wanted. Funny how true colours began to emerge once the 'honeymoon' period was over.

Linka wiped a tear away, pondering for a moment how she had allowed this pushy American to transform her into the blubbering, emotional wreck that she had become.

_It was never this way with Wheeler…_

Not that they had ever dated, but Linka had always been more than prepared to speak her mind and shatter the Yankee's over-inflated ego when the situation called for it… although this had been more prevalent in the early years of the group. She had always been a little intimidated by members of the opposite sex, although her father was to blame for most of her pre-conceived notions.

"My father needs you, Linka! The election's early next year and he's down in the popularity polls. Would you do this for my father? Please… or for me?"

"Why do you always push me into things I'm not comfortable doing?" she began, her voice cracking slightly on the last syllable.

Linka could practically see him rolling his eyes on the other end of the line. "Because…" he said with deliberate (and belittling) slowness, "you can be stubborn as all hell. Besides, it'll be good for you…my family are very much in the public eye and like it or not, you're gonna have to get used to it."

"I'm not happy, Grant. I don't want to…" she began, but he interrupted her again, oblivious to what Linka was unsuccessfully trying to convey.

"I know you're not happy about it. I know there's been a lot of stuff in the media about us lately, but it's fantastic for the campaign! So what if they're reporting our supposed engagement! Enjoy the attention! Revel in it, babe."

She shuddered, reacting to the familiarity of the final word in Grant's sentence.

_I do not want this._

She sighed, switching her phone to the other ear in preparation for the verbal onslaught she would soon experience.

"Grant, I… I need to talk to you."

* * *

**Three Weeks Later**

"Up for a movie?" Gi stuck her head around the corner of Linka's doorway, rattling a microwavable carton of popcorn as if to sweeten the suggestion. "Kwame and Vishaal have just flown home for the holidays."

"Where's Amir?"

Gi snorted. "Haven't a clue. Probably eating or surfing… sometimes it's like Wheeler never left!"

Linka looked up at her best friend and attempted a smile, but seemed to lose the willpower.

Sensing this, Gi stepped inside, closing the door behind her. "Is everything okay, Lin? You've seemed a bit down lately…"

Linka shrugged, reaching back to pull her long blonde hair off her face as Gi sat down beside her on the bed, pulling her legs into a tuck position. "Fine… it's fine."

Gi studied her colleague for a moment, seemingly on the verge of pushing further. She decided against it and changed the subject.

"Christmas plans with Grant?"

Linka swallowed, reddening slightly but luckily the dim light shielded this fact from her inquisitive friend.

"Da. We are going to Martha's Vineyard for Christmas Eve."

"Oh cool! How… sophisticated!"

Linka settled back onto the pillows, leaning her head against the bed-head: all the while hating Grant for making her agree to continue this ridiculous charade for the sake of his father… forcing her to lie to those closest to her.

Gi seemed none the wiser as she grabbed Linka's left hand, inspecting it closely. "Hey, any chance of a ring on that finger yet?"

"Why do you say that?"

"Everyone's saying that!" Gi retorted. "It's all over the TV and magazines…just checking that I wasn't being kept out of the loop!"

"Nyet. There is no ring on this finger."

_Nor will there ever be._

"Ooookay. Movie?"

"Nyet. I'm sorry, Gi, but I think I'll just go to bed. I have to leave early in the morning."

Gi took this as her invitation to leave. "All right. Well, have a great holiday."

"You too." Linka replied as she watched Gi shuffle towards the door. "Gi?"

Gi stopped inside the doorway, the light in the hallway casting an angelic glow around her face. "Yes?"

"Do you think Wheeler has forgiven me?"

Gi frowned slightly, contemplating Linka's question. The water planeteer had always known that this topic would come up, although she hadn't expected it to take so long… over six months had passed since the American had quit.

He had announced it out of the blue at one of their weekly admin meetings, looking distinctly uncomfortable as he relayed his decision to four pale faces. No one had been prepared for the revelation; least of all Linka who had actually burst into tears when he had finished speaking. Wheeler had privately assured the Russian that his decision had nothing to do with her relationship with Grant: that it was family issues and an overwhelming need to move on and "get a real job".

In her heart, Linka wasn't convinced.

He had left the next week, leaving behind a shell-shocked team… including one very angry earth-bearer who placed the blame for the American's departure squarely on Linka's shoulders. Linka had been given the cold shoulder from Kwame ever since.

Then Ma-Ti had left. The youngest planeteer had also been the first to find love and marry, something no-one could ever have predicted. Amir and Vishaal had arrived soon after.

And so here she was, feeling a tumult of emotions: fear, anxiety, and above all, deep regret.

"You already know the answer to that, Linka" Gi said, folding her own arms across her chest. "From what I could see, you and Wheeler were on good terms when he left…"

"But he hasn't called, no letters… nothing!" she cried, feeling the all-too-familiar tears beginning to well up. "I… I don't…" she spluttered, now visibly distressed and frantically wiping tears away.

Gi regarded her friend closely, realizing that for someone who was usually in such tight control of her emotions, this was totally out of character… and a little disconcerting. She quickly shut the door again and moved towards the bed, tossing a comforting arm around Linka's shoulders.

"Are you happy?" Gi said quietly in the darkness after a few minutes of silence, punctuated only by the odd sniff.

Linka didn't answer. Gi sighed heavily, squeezing her affectionately.

"You made the decision to go out with Grant. Wheeler has probably moved on himself… in fact, knowing him, he probably has a million girls lined up down the block, all desperate to date him.."

Linka's eyes widened, extremely perturbed by the thought.

"So you think he is all right, then?"

Gi gritted her teeth, unsure as to whether or not to volunteer the next piece of information. "I... um… Kwame had lunch with Wheeler in October, Lin. I'm pretty sure he mentioned a girlfriend…"

"Oh," she said softly, letting the words wash over her for a moment, feeling utterly empty and devoid of feeling.

"I'm sorry… we didn't know how to tell you."

Linka nodded, staring ahead blankly at her desk and dresser.

"He's fine, Linka. You're fine. Stop worrying and just enjoy your time with Grant tomorrow night." Gi stood, withdrawing her arm, before placing a kiss on top of Linka's forehead. "Have a good Christmas, wont you!"

"You too."

Gi disappeared around the corner, but her disembodied voice filtered through the walls nonetheless.

"Ring me if Grant proposes, Linka! I want all the juicy details!"

She barely heard.

_This is my own fault. What have I done?_

7 years of stubbornness and false pride had contributed to her situation. She had no one to blame but herself.

What right did she have to feel this way, anyway? She had made her choice… albeit the wrong one. She had to live with the aftermath.

Linka stood, kicking a stuffed animal across the floor, angry and bewildered that she was feeling this way. It hit the wall and bounced several times, before coming to rest to the right of her doorway. Linka soon began tossing various items of clothing into a small suitcase, mentally preparing herself for the monumental task ahead of her… mingling with US dignitaries and convincing everybody that Grant and herself were still very much together…

Judging by his treatment of her on the phone after breaking up… she was in for a grueling holiday season.

But promises were promises.

* * *

Yep, that's it for now! One chapter to go, the next one will focus on what happens on Christmas Eve. Will Linka play "happy couples" with her ex or ditch the event for another destination entirely????? 

Hmmmm… the possibilities.

Read and review.

As per usual, I would love to know what you think of it!


	2. Chapter 2

_**Okay… yes, it's taken six months, so I do apologize profusely for the delay. I just couldn't get motivated in all honesty, even though the storyline of this fic has been simmering around in my mind for some time now. Call it 'writers block' (or sheer laziness, on my part!).**_

_**Aaaanyway, second chapter, one more to come…. This chapter explores a very different side to Linka, one that we rarely got to see. It is also **__**rated for violence and adult themes**__** so read at your own risk. **_

_**I do not own Captain Planet. If someone was in the position to purchase it however, I'd be happy to lend some ideas! :-)**__** lol**_

* * *

_**After the Fall**_

_**Chapter Two**_

A trio of middle-aged, slightly inebriated women sauntered past the window, waving to Linka through the frosty glass. She smiled back, giving them a half-hearted wave as they stumbled from her peripheral vision. Linka turned slightly, peering through the glass at the revelers inside, all cheerfully oblivious to her predicament.

Comprised mostly of powerful dignitaries, political constituents, wealthy supporters and sponsors of Grants father's political campaign, they were a rather rambunctious group of 'party animals'. Linka had always felt distinctly out of place amongst this now all-too-familiar throng of faces, with the average age of the guests approaching 50 and beyond.

The room cleared, leaving only her pale reflection staring back. Linka blinked, before adjusting her strapless black dress more securely around her chest. She looked down, playing with the band of silver Swarovski crystals that delicately edged their way underneath her bust line. Her blonde hair was glossy and coiffed, gathered in a loose band to the side, and trailing in soft curls over her right shoulder. Her nails were manicured; having had her French tips applied that same morning. Small black heels and a silver clutch bag complimented the outfit, although the bag had clearly bore the brunt of her tense disposition for much of the night: fingernail marks were embedded within the fabric and quite visible upon close inspection.

She sighed, aware that Grant's family would start wondering where she was…most certainly not expecting her to be standing on the front verandah of their palatial home in sub-zero temperatures, wishing she were a million miles from here. The strong glare of headlights suddenly diverted her attention and she turned, squinting with detached curiosity as a black stretch limo rolled past her, a parking usher rapidly approaching the driver side window and speaking in muted tones.

The limo remained where it was and so Linka turned back towards the window, leaning against the cement rendered walls and contemplating the events of the last few weeks

Grant's hulking form suddenly strode past the window and Linka darted back, away from his view. She watched as he climbed the reception-room stairs, two at a time, evidently searching for her. With that, she grabbed her coat and bag and slipped quietly inside the house again, her black heels taking her in the direction of the dining room where the guests were beginning to seat themselves.

She entered, smiling shyly at the beaming faces that turned in her direction as she passed the back tables, her heart thumping louder than ever. Grant's father waved, beckoning her over to the main table, decked out with expensive silverware, pristine wine goblets and a massive flower arrangement obscuring much of the view of the room. She took her seat beside him, nodding in the direction of Grant's mother (who usually had the tendency to go a little overboard on red wine… and tonight was evidently no exception).

"Where were you?"

The voice startled her and she turned, slightly breathless as Grant sat down and grabbed her wrist under the table, squeezing hard.

She prized his hand off and looked away, her cheeks burning in anger.

"I was in the bathroom," she replied softly, leaning back in her chair as the first meal was placed on the table in front of her.

"Whatever," Grant said dismissively, ordering another beer for himself from the waiter and staring sullenly into the crowd.

Linka sighed again. "I do not have to be here, you know. You asked me to come, so I am doing you a favor," she said softly, glancing down at her hands folded primly within her lap. "The least you could do is to be civil towards me."

Grant shrugged, gulping down half of his beer in one go as he glared at the bottle with mounting anger.

"Whatever."

* * *

The rest of the night was pretty much a collective blur for the forlorn Russian woman. At some point, Grant's father had begun making his thank you speech but much of it was lost on Linka, as she sat idly in her seat, unraveling the cotton of the white fabric napkins with her nails.

She had been living this lie since dinner at Thanksgiving. Linka had smiled sweetly for the New York Times' cameras, politely answered questions posed by the journalists, giggled fetchingly at the usual 'engagement' innuendo and partaken in a particularly hideous family feast… all of whom were none the wiser about their break-up.

It had been such a mistake to agree to the charade. Linka wasn't sure whether she could put up with Grant's treatment of her for much longer: the cutting comments, the pointed silences, and the fact that he had become physical with her twice now within the space of two weeks… nothing major, but grabbing her arm hard enough that it left marks upon her skin wasn't exactly what she had expected for 'doing him a favor'. The fact that she was here on Christmas Eve did nothing to sweeten the deal.

Linka tilted her head up as she heard her name mentioned by the man standing on the other side of her, microphone still in hand.

"… and my sincere thanks must also go out to my son Grant and his beautiful girlfriend, Linka. Sweetheart, if I were 20 years younger and had a full head of hair, you'd be in big trouble…"

He got no further. The room lit up with wolf-whistles and raucous whooping, causing Linka to blush deep red with embarrassment.

"Yes, okay," he continued, trying to make himself heard over the din, many oblivious to Linka's intense discomfort as she slid further down into her chair to avoid the 100 or so pairs of eyes leering in her direction. "Okay… Grant's a lucky man, we are all aware of this. So…"

He stopped for a moment, fumbling inside his jacket pocket for what evidently turned out to be a small white envelope. He grinned in Grant's direction, before continuing.

"So in appreciation of Grant's tireless efforts with the campaign, Margaret and I have decided to send our two lovebirds away to New York City for a few days of R & R…"

_Clunk._

The wine glass that Linka had picked up made a dramatic return to the table. She jumped, mopping up the liquid which had spilt on the tablecloth using her shredded napkin, glancing up at regular, panicky intervals as she took in more of the details.

_Limo to the airport… The Plaza…three nights… chauffeur… did Grant know about this?_

She snuck a peek in Grant's direction, observing the slightly comical look of surprise on his chiseled features. He seemed genuinely shocked at the announcement.

_Wheeler. Wheeler will be in New York._

Her heart thudded with the realization. Was it karma? Perhaps a simple twist of fate that was pulling her towards his home-town, or was some other force responsible for this unexpected detour. She sat back, a small smile playing upon her pretty features as she considered the possibilities.

"Limo leaves in 15 minutes, kids! Better grab your stuff!"

Grant slunk off immediately without waiting for her, his hands buried deep within his pockets, shoulders hunched. She mouthed a silent _thank you_ to Grant's parents and exited the room, her mind full of dizzying possibilities as she ascended the stairs to change into a pair of indigo jeans, a black top and cream trench coat. Linka quickly grabbed her overnight bag and toiletries and dashed back downstairs.

Closing the front door behind her, Linka stepped out onto the gravel driveway and towards the waiting limousine. She climbed inside, a warm feeling spreading through her chest. She was even too preoccupied too concern herself with Grant's obvious annoyance… the eye-rolling and muttering emanating from the man beside her didn't penetrate Linka's cautious optimism for the coming weekend.

_I will have no expectations. I need to set things right again. I just need to know that he was content with the way things were left between us. _

The car rolled away quietly and they began the short journey towards the airport, the only noise punctuating the silent trip being a champagne bottle-cork popping. Grant drunk down half of the champagne directly from the bottle, staring directly at Linka with a smirk as he re-corked the bottle and placed the unfinished portion back into the small bar fridge. He folded his arms in his lap, as if challenging her to complain. Linka furnished him with a dazzling smile, causing Grant's composure to falter somewhat. Eye contact now broken, Grant went back to staring sullenly out the window, leaving the Russian to contemplate what her next move would be once they had arrived in New York.

* * *

The hotel room was extravagant and plush, painted and furnished in rich crimson and white tones. High, vaulted ceilings, a bay window, fireplace and a huge bathroom with spa complimented the spacious suite, although these additions were no match for the ornate, hand-carved four poster bed, which was obviously the centerpiece. All of these details were lost on Linka, who had approached the doorway, but went no further, watching the porter carry her small travel-bag inside from her vantage point under the door frame. Grant tipped the porter 20 dollars, sending him on his way with a dismissive nod.

The porter smiled at Linka as she moved aside to let him pass, however she remained where she was, suddenly a little apprehensive about entering the room

"Get out." Barely audible, Grant glared at Linka from the edge of the bed. "Get the hell out, before…." He abruptly stopped, his face turning redder by the minute.

Linka's mouth dropped open at the unspoken threat evident in his voice. She swallowed nervously, before skirting along the side wall towards her luggage, sitting on a shelf beside the plasma television set.

"All right," she said softly, reaching down quickly and grasping the handles of her bag firmly, just as Grant suddenly stood and covered the space between them in 2 long strides. She stood her ground as he bore down on her, cold fury radiating from him in waves.

"You'll be replaced within the next hour… you do realize that," he said, his nose barely an inch from her own. Linka's heart was now thumping wildly within her chest, his close proximity causing her to catch her breath.

"Then the sooner I leave, the better," she replied uneasily, although he didn't back off. On the contrary, he slammed his hands against the wall, trapping her between them. She could smell the two bottles of champagne he had downed in the limo: his breath reeked of alcohol. She turned her face away, but it didn't help much.

"You've made a friggin' fool of me," he said, his voice getting louder now, more unsteady. "You know that?"

"Just let me leave then, Grant."

He chuckled then. "Got somewhere better to be?"

She bit her lip but said nothing, in no way ready to tell him where she would be heading. "Nyet… I have honoured my promise. Just let me leave."

He snorted, but let go of her. "You're pathetic, you know that? So 'high and mighty', but you have nothing, Linka. No real friends, no family left. Who the hell else is going to want you?"

She pursed her lips but said nothing, moving quickly towards the door, blood pumping loudly in her ears. She reached the thresh-hold but Grant got their first, slamming the door within inches of her outstretched fingers. He made a grab for her, but she pushed him away, reaching for the door handle again.

"Nyet!" she cried as he grabbed her by the upper arm and dug his fingers into her skin, turning her around to face him again and slamming her against the door. The back of her head made contact and she cried out in pain.

"Did you hear me, princess? You're nothing! I only used you to see what I could get out of you… WHICH TURNED OUT TO BE VERY LITTLE, SWEETHEART!" He was shouting now, his slurred voice reverberating off the walls.

Linka reached again for the door handle, frantically pushing him away with one hand and trying to pull the door open with the other. Her success was short-lived, however as Grant pushed against her using his full body weight and she toppled forward, watching with dismay as the door slammed shut for the second time. Linka whimpered with frustration, then a flare of agony shot through her skull as he slammed into her once again. This time the wooden door made contact with her right temple with a resounding crack. Stars burst through her vision and she momentarily dropped her arms, too stunned by the impact to fight back.

Taking advantage of this, Grant began dragging her back towards the center of the room by her arm, kicking her travel bag away in anger. With a cry of desperation, Linka retaliated. She clamped the fingers of her free hand into a fist and swung around blindly, her knuckles making contact with Grant's chin. His grip loosened for a moment and she countered by launching her knee into his stomach.

Without looking back, she flung the door open and fled, Grant's bellowing ringing in her ears and her travel bag still remaining where Grant had kicked it: beside the bay-window. She ran to the elevator and pressed the down button, dimly aware now that she hadn't even tried to use her ring. She turned around and pointed it in the direction she had just come, half expecting Grant to appear around the corner like some monster from a horror movie.

But he didn't. She stood breathlessly, slumped against the wall until the elevator doors opened. She half-stepped, half-fell into the lift and watched anxiously until the doors closed, feeling the tremors begin to work their way through her body and trying desperately to control them. At ground level, Linka lurched forward and stumbled out, oblivious to the stares of the employees working the reception desk (one of whom would call security as, unbeknownst to Linka at this point, she was disheveled, deathly pale and bleeding slightly from the temple).

She walked quickly towards the first cab in the rank outside the hotel, stepping into the back seat. Linka closed her eyed as the cab pulled away from the curb, aware of the dull throb in her temple. She touched her fingers to the spot and winced, noticing the blood that came away on her fingers. She leaned back into the seat, unaware that the driver was speaking to her.

"Sorry?" she said, trying to cover the wound and resulting lump that was forming with her hair.

"Where can I take ya' tonight, sweetheart?"

Linka stared ahead, utterly nonplussed. The headlights outside the car windows began to blur as the tears started coming freely now. She hung her head, sobbing quietly as the realization hit her: she had fled the hotel and left her purse and cell phone behind, along with the rest of her possessions. Linka had no idea where she was going, or how she was even going to pay to get there.

She wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve, and then quietly explained her situation to the driver.

* * *

_**That's it for now! Read and review, I always appreciate it… I'll try to update soon :-) Mwah.**_


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